Nugs' Wasted Opportunity

Nugs: Iron Man and I met totally by accident. I had just escaped from LA, so I was kind of like Kurt Russell, only smaller and less growly. And also with both my eyes and substantially less body hair.



Finding a dude was definitely the last thing I was concerned with. I'm currently still on the job hunt, and I'm crashing at my dad's until I settle into a suitable living situation. The first time I moved back to New York I made the disastrous mistake of dating the first guy that I met, so I was determined to hang out with my friends and focus on myself, leaving relationships on the back burner. I wasn't prepared for this at all.

Ginny: That's what they all say "It's me time!" and then they meet their future spouse.

Nugs: At least if I marry him I'll know that he's already seen Ginny and I wasted together. So I won't have to drop that bomb at the wedding.

I had been back East for about two weeks when I was messaged on Facebook by one of my oldest friends, who you guys may remember from That Ain't Kosher as Bri-Winning. He was hitting up our old Sunday night hangout with all our boys from my college days, so of course my presence was required.

Bri-Winning and I got to the bar and weren't there for ten minutes when Iron Man arrived. Apparently he and Bri-Winning had met a few months prior through another mutual friend and were usually both there on Sundays, but Bri-Winning didn't know whether or not he would be there that night. He introduced us, and I found myself immediately regretting my decision to not go with the V-neck top. Dude was hot. Then I found out he was a Penguins fan. Oh. Fail.

Too bad for you. RANGERS FOREVER.

Lily: Womp womp. Why don't people understand that these are serious issues?!

Tits: I love this guy and yet I hate him at the same time. I just can't deal with those Penguins fans.

Nugs: Right? I will never, ever raise a Flyers fan in my house. Or Devils. Sorry, Tits.

PS- Lily, you're getting married to a Packers fan. You can't say shit.

We ignored everyone else for about an hour until Bri-Winning came over to drive me home. I lingered for a while as I put on my jacket, waiting for Iron Man to offer me a ride (in the car, you pervs!), ask for my number, ANYTHING that would indicate the slightest hint of interest in continuing our conversation. I waited, and all that happened was a goodbye.

SAY WHAT.

Ginny: Guys do this all the time as in they don't get the hint when we're giving the hint.

Lily: The male species does not comprehend "hints".  And sometimes, they don't even get it when you're telling them directly.

Tits: You could write the hints on a two by four and beat them over the head with it and they would still not get it. I can't tell you how many times I have said something to Imac only for him to forget in less than 3 seconds.

 Nugs: Ugh, YES. Unless you include the words "sandwich," "beer," or boobies!!!!!!".

I spent the next two days going over this (sorry, Tits), wondering how I (again) could have fucked things up. (OMG this was torture, Nug's ability to over-analyze is epic) (Do you really want to play this game with me? Because this will end in a tie. Or a marshmallow fight.) I concluded that I definitely should have worn the V-neck after all.

Then, when I was checking my Facebook, I noticed a friend request. It was Iron Man. He was on, and sent me a message on Facebook chat. I kept it totally cool while texting like nine of my friends in the process, even while he asked me to go for drinks that weekend.

One of his friends was bartending that night, which is very bad for me because the shots were free and I hold my liquor even worse than a freshman sorority girl. The drinks kept coming (Haha. "Coming."), and being sufficiently loaded allowed me to "question" him about his lack of follow-through:

Me: So what was your deal? I totally didn't expect to hear from you.
IM: About that. I just figured I would find you on Facebook through [Bri-Winning].
Me: Well, that makes no sense. You should have just gotten my number.
IM: Yeah, after you left, I was kind of like, "you stupid motherfucker."
Me: Actually, me too.

*drink*

Me: So how did you find me on Facebook? Did you go through [Bri-Winning's] friends or something?
IM: Yeah, I saw somebody that I thought was you. Then I went through some pictures and I was sure.
Me: Stalking. Classy. Did you go through the ones on the stripper pole?
IM: There are ones on a stripper pole?
Me: Really? I thought those would be the first ones you looked at, considering you've been talking to my boobs for like twenty minutes.

IM: Shit. You noticed that?
Me: It's pretty obvious.

Tits: In fairness to him, your tits do come through the door about 2 minutes before the rest of your body. It's hard to miss them.

Nugs: AHAHAHAHAHAHA.

The more we imbibed, the more the conversation slipped heavily into unintentional porn:

Me: (after he asked about my job) So, what do you do?
IM: I'm a pimp.
Me: .......
IM: (explains actual job. He's not serious- he's not really a pimp, but it's close.)

By this time I had downed at least two glasses of vodka and three double shots of tequila, and I didn't know which one of him was real- the one on the left or the one on the right. I was super hammered, so I was sort of relieved when it was time for last call. We walked out to the car and had a relatively normal drive back to my dad's house which I do not remember at all until the end.

We sat in the driveway, and it was one of those typical first date moments where he was probably thinking about whether he should go for it and I was probably thinking about whether he would go for it, or I would have been if I weren't smashed out of my mind. Before I could even take this in, he leaned over and it happened, and even though I was heavily dosed on tequila I knew that it was good. I straightened myself up, said my goodbye and exited the car. I barely made it to the bathroom before I lay down next to the toilet. I woke up the next morning fully clothed with a pounding headache, my face pressed against the tile.

Tits: This seems to be the proper order in life: Making out and then vomiting up everything you have eaten for the day.

Lily: I have an awesome visual of you looking hung over...

I was totally convinced that once again, I was destined to adopt nine cats and move into the comic book store, but IM actually texted me the next day and invited me out with his friends. "Shocked" does not even begin to cover my reaction, although he still claims he had no idea how intoxicated I really was that night. He probably just thought I was being a bitch. Although he does kind of enjoy that, which explains why we're still together. Either that, or he really likes V-necks.

Ginny: there is nothing wrong with having a lot of cats!


Nugs: Or lemurs. For some reason, I'm now obsessed with lemurs.

This dude.

Debate Class: To Do Or Not To Do

Nugs: Every so often at Snark & Sex we realize that while we're clearly experts in the dating field, we actually don't have all the answers to everything. So when I came across a minor dilemma last week I emailed the girls and they suggested I turn this into our first debate post of the blog. So if you will, read this story of my wild night out and choose your own adventure.

Lily: I've heard this story already, and Nugs knows most of what I would say ...

Nugs: So I have this friend. I'll name her Kitty due to her love of animals and also because... well, because it's a euphemism, all right? Here at Snark & Sex we don't make much with the subtlety.

I love Kitty because we don't get to hang out much (she works ALL THE TIME), but when we do, she's fucking insane so you never know what you're going to get- kind of like Forrest Gump with a bigger IQ and exponentially better jugs.

It's entirely possible that every time we go out I could wake up the next morning in another part of the country with a tattoo and an adopted litter of baby marmosets. She's also really hot so guys practically shove me into oncoming traffic just to hear her explain the website she just finished programming. Yup, she's really smart, too. So, yeah, awkward.

Anyway, this weekend Kitty and I were hanging with a few of my friends (and four puppies!) when I sensed that one of them was totally checking her out. This guy has all the stealth of a Gestapo regime so I excused myself to get a drink so they could "talk" and get to know each other better. I was gone for maybe seven minutes when I turned around and noticed that the two of them had gotten past that stage pretty quickly. I mean, I was half in the bag at this point but I know what I saw, and that, my friends, was well into PG-13. Possibly R, if I plied either of them with more beer (not hard to do, honestly).

Kitty realized I was standing near the wet bar (hahahaha), disentangled herself and assured me that she was not going to hump some random dude, even if they did have a common thread (me). She had actually told him that repeatedly, and although disappointed, Grabby Hands seemed fine with it.

Then she returned to her prior location and I, being an excellent wingwoman, sought out a new spot where the puppies were and waited for Kitty to come up for air.

Nine years later, after the owners of the house had dropped hints that it was time for everyone to haul ass back to their own place of residence, Kitty finally decided to stick her tongue back in her own mouth. As everyone was packing up their shit, Grabby Hands came over to the group and announced that he would need a ride back to Hollywood in the morning. "I can do it," Kitty piped up. "You can come over to my place."

I was pretty surprised. A) I was staying on her couch that night so I really didn't appreciate this and B) as crazy as she was, I knew for a fact that Kitty never slept with guys that she just met. Like, ever. I was shocked that it seemed like she had completely changed her policy.

So we got to her apartment, and the two of them immediately retired to her bedroom. Mercifully, her walls are pretty thick, so the only sound I heard all night was the hum of her incredibly loud AC unit. By the time I woke up, Grabby Hands was gone, and Kitty was doing work on her desktop, having dropped him off at the bus.

"Good morning," she greeted me. "Or, afternoon."

 "Uh, I bet."

"Oh, we didn't have sex. He wanted to, but you know I don't do that."

"So, what did you guys do all night? Compare POG collections?"

"What the hell is that?" (Did I mention that Kitty is 25? Fuck, am I older than everybody?)

Lily: Wait! I'm 25, and I HAD Pogs!

Ginny: Let's bring Pogs back!

Nugs: I agree. I also noticed that you guys are ignoring the "am I old" question. Moving on.

"Seriously, what happened last night?"

Kitty went on to recount the events that took place behind her closed door- she and Grabby Hands "talked" for a while, "made out" for an even longer while, and then, true to her promise, she dropped him off at the bus station. "I think he's pissed at me though. You know, because I didn't sleep with him."

Lily: As most guys would be. As if they're OWED sex. *eye roll*

Nugs: I didn't want to say anything, since I was supposed to be on her side, but, well, yeah. If you literally spend hours attached to another human being through your saliva glands and then invite them to spend the night with you, one naturally expects it to go in a certain direction, even if you've been insisting in the negative the entire time.

Don't look at me like that- I'm in no way insinuating that Kitty was obligated in any way to do anything that she felt uncomfortable doing. If she said no sex, she meant no sex. However, her actions all night definitely implied otherwise- even I assumed she was ready to get down. I can definitely understand where Grabby Hands was coming from and I can't blame him for being less than enthused the next morning. Essentially, for lack of a better phrase, Kitty acted like a tease.

So what do you guys think? Is there any way this scenario could have played out any differently? Did Grabby Hands have any right to expect anything? Should Kitty have invited him over at all? And do any of you remember any of my '90's toys?

Lily: So a part of me would be say she was being a tease. Playing tonsil hockey all night, inviting him over, and then no sex? Seems like a HUUUUUUUGE let down.

I get her stance on no sex... but still, if you weren't going to have sex with the guy DON'T INVITE HIM OVER. She could have given him a ride and he could have gotten a cab when he was actually closer to his house. But it is entirely possible that she doesn't see it as being "tease-y". Poor guy, he probably left with blue balls.  

Ginny: I have to say that if you don't want to sleep with a guy then don't invite him back and let him sleep in your bed. If she had told him he had to sleep on the couch if he came over then maybe I'd be like, ok, she made it clear. BUT he slept in her bed and they were making out all night so as most guys would, he assumed that maybe there would be sex. 

Also, you were sleeping over so she should have been like, sorry dude I have a guest.

Nugs: Any opinions from you guys, our brilliant and loyal followers? (We haven't come up with a name for you yet) Let us know what you think!

Tit's Rules of Dating: Guys are Weird

It seems only fair that my inaugural post on this blog is about my love life or lack thereof. Since it was Nugs and I discussing our weird-ass dating lives that prompted us to start this blog.

Nugs: It also seems fair that the inaugural post on this blog should be an explosion of wit, self-mockery and shameless sexploitation that all of your creative, dynamic and intellectual co-authors are so maturely exalted for, just so you can get a feel as to what you'll be perusing through for however long we decide to keep this going.

Haha. "Feel." (Lily: *giggle*)

Anyone who has been keeping tabs on my personal blog might have see that I have been seeing a new guy. Well that's over, and like with every failed relationship I called Nugs to discuss it. And in the discussing it, we couldn't come to a consensus with what was going on with this guy.

Nugs: How is he not yet fall-on-your-ass in love with you? Your name is Tits. You're super nerdy. You're friends with us. I don't understand this.

So we thought we'd let the internet decide what was going on. So I met this guy online and while I don't take too much stock in online dating, this guy was a winner. He was cute, funny, smart and charming and nerdy. He wasn't perfect but he was the closest I have ever come to finding it. We went out on a total of 5 dates, which isn't that many but it's enough to know if you like a person or not.

And I liked him and I got the impression that he liked me. He would text me "good morning" like every day and we'd text all day (or at least what was reasonable between working). He would answer mine (and Nugs') random questions on his opinions of Dragons and Narwhals. Also this convo happened:

Tits: Enterprise vs. Millenium Falcon: Go
Him: MF. Hands Down
Tits: Swoon

Nugs: NO. The technology used to create the Enterprise would destroy the Millennium Falcon in like thirty seconds before the MF even lined up its shot. Also, Borg Queen vs. Jabba the Hut? The Queen is the WAY better villain and oh sorry, wrong thing to focus on right now. Carry on.

We bonded over Ninja Turles being more awesome than Power Rangers and he even suggested we dress up like April and Casey for Halloween. Then date 5 came around and we were making out pretty hot and heavy in my bed, and after an hour I was like "Why am I still wearing pants?"And things started going downhill. He pretty much turned me down for sex, being like "I have reservations about you and if we sleep together it is something and you're thinking about moving to Florida and I don't want to get into something that has an end date."

Nugs: What is he, a woman? All you wanted was to see this dude naked. Doesn't mean you're going to draw up invitations.

Admittedly, I did do your genetic mash-up in my head. Your kids would have been smoking hot.

Call me, maybe?
God, I am SO sorry for that.

Ginny: Why do guys always think having sex means we want to get married and have kids and buy a pony? We can be like dudes too!

Lily: Totes! Gah! Guys think they're the only ones that can have NSA sex. 

Nugs: Wait. There are ponies?

Listen that is a fair point, (Nugs: About the ponies?) I am thinking about moving but not till February and even then it's not set in stone that I am going to go. I might move in Feb. I might move in 10 years, and I told him that repeatedly.

He went home and I wallowed about no sex. We continued texting every day like nothing had happened, until finally on Saturday I pulled my courage together and asked him if he wanted to come over for dinner as I was making homemade spaghetti and meatballs. (Nugs: I'm in.) He was like "I don't think for dinner, but I'll come hang out later."

This is when all my red flag whistles and bells started going off. I come from a "He's just not that into you" school of dating and in the movie they even say "If he's not sleeping with you he's just not that into you." And dammit if he isn't sleeping with your or willing to eat your food there is a problem. So I confronted him on it and while he said that:

• "You're awesome and cute and smart and funny and nerdy and witty"
• "I like everything about you"
• "I'm attracted to you"

He just doesn't feel a "fire" for me- basically he friendzoned me. Now I'm the kind of girl that takes people at their word. Nugs tends to have a different perspective on what men do and why they do it.

Nugs: I came to the reasonable conclusion that he is blind, deaf, mentally retarded and also gay. Oh, and has a small penis.

Lily: +1 on everything, and X1000 on the small penis. Or no penis.

I say exactly what I think and do and I don't hide behind excuses. So when he says he's just not that into me, I take his word at that.

Nugs: Seriously, I think it's the opposite- he IS that into you. He really likes you, but doesn't want something that will end when you (supposedly) leave the state in six months. It's a bullshit excuse, and also one that reeks of "I'm really a girl," but whatever. You're his perfect girlfriend, but he's too afraid to get involved because, like he said, there's an "end date." Whatever. Move on, see other people, and hopefully eventually he'll come around. If not, it's his loss.

I told him I still really liked him and that if his feelings changed he could call me, but I was going to start seeing other people. So internet world, what do you think?

Ginny: See other people. This guy wouldn't eat your home cooking and you deserve someone who is knocking down your door! I agree with Nugs. Small penis?